


Shatter

by matchynishi



Series: Verity [2]
Category: EXO (Band), K-pop, SHINee
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-22
Updated: 2016-01-22
Packaged: 2018-05-15 14:50:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5789506
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/matchynishi/pseuds/matchynishi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to 'Façade'.</p><p>(warnings for fandom in-jokes)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shatter

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Panda-sama](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Panda-sama).



Jongin ducks his head and smiles to himself when his sister comments about how nice it was to see that he’s gotten more relaxed on stage.

“It’s like I can actually see our Jonginnie in there at times, now!” she laughs, with a teasing look at him as he stirs in milk into his tea. Jongin sticks his tongue out at his sister and her friend, who had come to his concert that day. He doesn't last long socializing before he goes to bed - he's got an early schedule tomorrow, and he wants as much sleep as he can get. Despite not being able to spend as much time with his family as he had hoped that day, he finds he’s still happy.

He checks his phone before going to bed and smiles at the messages, typing off a quick reply. He doesn’t bother to wait for replies – if he’s lucky, he might get one the next day. Maybe. He shakes his head in resignation as he strips out of his jeans, but his heart feels light. He still can’t keep himself from smiling when his mind flashes back to the day everything changed.

 

*

 

Jongin is frozen still. His mind is a whirl of confusion. He cannot possibly have heard correctly. But Taemin is still sitting in front of him, a self-depreciating smile on his face. He tries to speak, but all that comes out of his mouth is a vaguely identifiable croak that _may_ have been Taemin’s name.

Taemin looks at him with some amusement, but remarks lightly, “And people call _me_ oblivious.”

Jongin stares. “What?” he finally manages to rasp out, voice still weak.

“Jongin, you can’t possibly have not noticed,” Taemin purses his lips and lolls his head back limply on the couch. “I’ve been trying to flirt with you for months, now. Dropping all these hints,” Taemin admits, and grins a little at Jongin’s wide eyes. “And here I thought I have a playboy in front of me,” he teases.

Jongin feels dazed. He’s been in love with Taemin for so long, and been resigned to not having his feelings returned for almost as long, that he tended to accept any and all of Taemin’s attention with no expectations. He never dreamed that this would blind him to any hopes that _Taemin_ would have from him.

Jongin knows he should say something, but he’s frozen. His throat seems to have closed up, and it takes an enormous effort to even blink.

Taemin’s eyes soften. “It’s fine, really. You must think it’s weird, but I just.” Taemin trails off and fiddles with a loose thread on his sweater. “I kinda wanted to go for it just in case… you know.”

Taemin rubs the back of his head shamefacedly, and Jongin knows he should say something. Something. _Anything_ , he thinks wildly, because Taemin is already withdrawing, he can tell from the little disappointed twist to Taemin’s lips. And he needs to do it _now_ , before Taemin totally draws away from him and leaves again, leaves him behind like always except now it’d be so much _worse_ , because he’d be leaving because he thinks Jongin isn’t _interested_. 

Because he doesn’t know. Doesn’t have any idea of how long Jongin has spent waiting for this very moment. Has no idea of how much Jongin still _wants_ , despite the fact that that he has all but completely given up hope. If he could just make his stupid mouth work the way it’s supposed to-

“Sorry,” Taemin says, with a disparaging head shake that seems to be directed more at himself. “I should’ve just taken the hint and not mentioned it.” He lowers his eyes and shrugs a little. “I won’t bring it up again-”

Taemin stops short when Jongin finally snaps out of it and springs forward, gripping on to Taemin’s arm. His eyes are wide. Jongin’s probably holding on too tightly. He still can’t seem to speak.

“Jongin?” Taemin blinks and looks down to where Jongin’s glass of juice has splattered on the floor. Jongin hasn’t even noticed.

“Don’t,” Jongin starts, but has to stop because he doesn’t even know what it is he needs to say. His head feels simultaneously blank, and full to bursting. It feels like it’s taking all he can to just breathe. Breathe, and hold Taemin down somehow, to stop him from leaving, because Jongin doesn’t think what he’d do if he let Taemin walk away now.

“No, I…” Jongin tries again, but struggles to a stop.

Taemin misconstrues. “Hey,” he says gently, patting Jongin’s leg with his other hand. “It’s okay,” he smiles a little. “I won’t hold it against you if you’re not interested.”

Jongin laughs, but there’s more than a hint of hysteria lacing it. He can’t seem to stop. Taemin’s words stumble to a stop, and his face looks more and more worried.

“Jongin?” Taemin’s voice is sharp, now.

Jongin sinks down on to the floor, too weak to stand, and tries to get himself under control. “I’m okay,” he says at last, and looks up with brimming eyes. He tries for a smile when he sees Taemin’s concerned gaze. “Sorry. What you said, it’s just…” His voice cracks. “Funny.”

Taemin stares at him, stilling. For a moment he’s perfectly blank, but then his eyes narrow. Jongin lowers his eyes. Taemin’s never been slow at figuring him out for the most part, once he notices.

There’s a beat of silence. Taemin sinks down from the chair to kneel next to him, and grasps his hands, which have been closed into fists against his knees. “Jongin, I.” he starts, and stutters to a stop. The air around them seems heavy. He takes in a deep breath and Jongin can almost see him feeling carefully around his words. “Jongin, is there… is there anything you need to tell me?”

Jongin’s heart speeds up even more. He’s kept this inside for so long that it seems like an intangible part of him. Taemin’s eyes are too penetrating. He can’t meet them. He shuts his own and feels like a coward.

“Jongin?” Taemin’s voice is becoming more demanding. He slides his palms up along Jongin’s arms, one hand moving further until it cups the back of his neck. Jongin can’t stop the full body shiver that wracks through him. His carefully constructed barriers have been obliterated in one fell swoop; he can’t seem to hold himself back anymore from the effects Taemin’s touches cause in him.

It’s too much to hope that Taemin doesn’t see it.

Taemin might be many things, but stupid has never been one of them. It takes him only moments. Jongin swallows when he hears him drag in a slow, shuddering breath. Taemin’s hands tighten on his hand and his neck, and Jongin tries to concentrate, to ground himself. There’s a long beat of silence that’s broken by Taemin’s whisper.

“How long?”

Jongin bows his head. “It doesn’t matter.”

Taemin actually shakes him, like he’s physically trying to make the words fall out of him. “Jongin, _how long?_ ”

Jongin has never been able to deny Taemin. “I don’t…” his voice breaks. “I don’t remember.”

Jongin can feel the startled inhale. He feels like a statue; his limbs heavy but his heart racing, and doesn’t know what he’s waiting for, what he’s hoping for, until Taemin lunges forward and wraps around him, arms folding tight around his hips and face pressed against his neck. Jongin is wound so tight he doesn’t know how long it takes before he unfreezes enough to fold himself into the hug, arms lifting to rest at their usual place around Taemin’s shoulders. He allows his face to rest at the crook of Taemin’s neck, and it feels like he’s come home at long last. His face is wet. He doesn’t know when he started crying. It takes him some time to realize Taemin is speaking. Apologizing.

“I’m sorry,” Taemin mumbles, and Jongin shakes his head and tightens his grip on Taemin. He doesn’t think he could let go if his life depended on it.

“I’m sorry I didn’t notice, I can’t _believe_ I didn’t notice-”

Jongin laughs wetly, tears clogging his throat. “It’s not your fault. I didn’t… I couldn’t… You were…”

Taemin shakes his head fiercely. “You know that didn’t matter to me. Why didn’t… you should’ve told me.” Taemin’s hand comes up to cradle his head, and his touch is so gentle that Jongin feels like he’s breaking again, only held together under Taemin’s careful hands. “You should’ve _told_ me Jongin.” He presses himself even closer, like he’s trying to fuse himself into Jongin. “You know I don’t… that I’m not…”

Probably trying to find a way to admit he could be an oblivious pillock in a way that wouldn’t upset Jongin further, except Taemin’s almost as bad at words as he is. Jongin huffs out a damp laugh against Taemin’s shoulder despite himself.

Taemin’s hands tighten around his waist.

“Yeah,” Jongin breathes, closing his eyes and breathing in the scent of Taemin’s shampoo. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry.”

“You idiot,” he hears, and if Taemin’s voice is a little thick, neither of them say anything about it.

“I’m sorry,” Taemin says again, in a whisper. Jongin thinks he might blame himself. He can’t let that happen, not when it was Jongin’s own weakness, his own lack of confidence, his own courage that had failed him.

“No, you’re not-- you don’t… it’s not your fault,” Jongin tries to say, but Taemin just heaves a shuddering breath and holds him tighter.

Jongin doesn’t know how long they stay there, entwined into each other until Taemin takes a deep breath and tugs at his hair. When Jongin raises his head up to look up at him at last, he strokes his fingers down Jongin’s face, smearing away the last of the tears and cradling his face between his hands, their foreheads touching each other’s.

When Taemin kisses him, Jongin feels his heart soar.

 

*


End file.
